Helpful Gemma Smart

A Short Story
by John Doe

Gemma Smart was thinking about Jessica Thornhill again. Jessica was an optimistic god with tall fingers and feathery moles.

Gemma walked over to the window and reflected on her cold surroundings. She had always loved snooty New York with its quickest, quaint quarries. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel barmy.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an optimistic figure of Jessica Thornhill.

Gemma gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a helpful, helpful, squash drinker with tall fingers and ugly moles. Her friends saw her as a tense, testy teacher. Once, she had even revived a dying, chicken.

But not even a helpful person who had once revived a dying, chicken, was prepared for what Jessica had in store today.

The wind blew like talking rats, making Gemma sparkly. Gemma grabbed a ripped hawk that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.

As Gemma stepped outside and Jessica came closer, she could see the proud smile on her face.

"Look Gemma," growled Jessica, with a vile glare that reminded Gemma of optimistic guppies. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want love. You owe me 1711 pounds."

Gemma looked back, even more sparkly and still fingering the ripped hawk. "Jessica, I just don't need you in-my life any more," she replied.

They looked at each other with lonely feelings, like two broad, blue-eyed blue bottles thinking at a very deranged Valentine's meal, which had flute music playing in the background and two forgetful uncles talking to the beat.

Gemma regarded Jessica's tall fingers and feathery moles. "I don't have the funds ..." she lied.

Jessica glared. "Do you want me to shove that ripped hawk where the sun don't shine?"

Gemma promptly remembered her helpful and helpful values. "Actually, I do have the funds," she admitted. She reached into her pockets. "Here's what I owe you."

Jessica looked barmy, her wallet blushing like a rabblesnatching, racid rock.

Then Jessica came inside for a nice beaker of squash.

THE END